The fall of the Arrogant
by Sapphire1112
Summary: Just because I think it's high time certain issues were resolved...I do not own the characters. Strachamp.
1. Chapter 1

**Sam**

It was cruel game and it went to far. _Way too far._

I can't believe this happening – Connie is going to kill me. I tried to dig myself out of the bottomless pit I'd dug, but I made it worse. I told Grace the truth. I didn't necessarily think it was the best thing to do, but it seemed to be the _only_ way out at the time.

 _I told her_ how I led her Mum to believe that we were going to be a family, then chickened out of the prospect of a future with the formidable Connie Beauchamp – and ran away from her instead.

 _I told her_ how it was really my idea to come back to America, and how her Mum had no idea we'd gone until she got the phone call from Grace.

 _I told her_ that I agreed with her at Christmas, when she said there was something else going on. Grace never believed that her Mum had chosen to work instead of spending time with us.

 _I told her_ that she was wrong – out of spite to Connie. I did my best to make her believe that Connie had abandoned her – though Grace initially ignored me and said there'd be a good reason. She wanted us to go back to Holby and see Connie – to find out what was going on, but I point-blank refused.

 _I told Grace_ that when we came back to America behind her back, Connie was distraught and was fighting to get her back.

 _I also told my daughter_ that I already knew there was something wrong back then, because her Mum suddenly backed down from the Custody battle she was threatening – it would take something very serious to make her do that.

Eventually, back then, I managed to convince Grace that Connie was only interested in her job. I don't know why I did that. I suppose I was afraid that we would have to go back – I didn't want to see Connie again.

 _I did – and I didn't._ I love her, but I'm afraid of my feelings and I was far too much of a coward to face up to them. I also didn't want to face Connie's wrath after taking Grace from her like that. I don't know what has been going on – but I know it's bad. My instincts have been screaming at me to go back to Holby ever since Connie stopped threatening law suits over Grace, but I ignored them and buried my head in the sand. Instead I chose the path of anger and dragged Grace down it with me. My anger turned sour and I wanted to hurt Connie so badly when she cancelled at Christmas, so I worked to cut all contact between her and Grace – poisoning our little girl's mind against her mother.

Cutting contact wasn't to hard. What with the time difference and Grace being at school all day, Connie and Grace only have a limited opportunity to talk on the phone – or face time. It wasn't difficult to find a reason why it wasn't convenient. Then Connie made it far too easy by stopping face-time and only talking on the phone – I don't know why. Then there was the letters and emails I had to get rid of. The emails were easy – I just deleted them. The letters I hid. The postman comes while Gracee is at school during the week – and she likes to lie in on Saturdays.

I've always been an _arrogant_ bastard – just ask Connie, but eventually, the guilt from the bad things I was doing to her began eating away at me.

It all got too much and my conscience took over – partly because I'm so worried about Connie and partly because deep down, I love her so much. We've always enjoyed playing for power trips over each other and playing games – but this time, Connie's not playing. I just blurted it out – everything.

Grace was _so_ angry. She screamed and yell at me, threw anything she could find at the wall and stormed out, stating that she was getting on a plane back to Holby. She went upstairs and slammed the door. I didn't think she was serious about the plane, but then a taxi arrived and she flounced past me and out the front door with a suitcase and her savings before I could stop her – though not before yelling that she hates me.

 _Connie is going to kill me._ Our daughter is on the way to the airport on her own – and she's also epileptic. Stress can be a trigger – and I've stressed her out beyond words. _Anything could happen._ What I did to Connie is unforgivable, but if she ever was going to forgiver me – she certainly won't now.

 **Grace**

I've been so angry with Mum and none of it was her fault. I _knew_ something else was going on and I'm certain that Mum's been ill – only that would have stopped her from coming to see me at Christmas. But Daddy... _why did I listen to him?_

I don't think I can forgive Dad. I _thought_ he loved Mum – I _thought_ it was as hard for him to leave her as it was for me. He's been lying the whole time – hiding my post, deleting my emails. And what he's done to Mummy is so awful. I can't imagine how lonely she's been – especially if she's not well. It's just too horrid to think about. I _have_ to go and see her. I _need_ to see her. I need to tell her I'm sorry.

 **Connie**

My phone rings and I see Grace's call. My newly repaired heart nearly stops. She hasn't spoken to me for months and I thought that was going to kill me when the Cancer didn't. I shut my office door as her face pops up – it's tear-stained and she looks in a right state. " _Gracie?_ "

"Mummy, I'm sorry – _I'm so sorry!_ " She sobs.

"Ssssh it's ok, darling – calm down and tell me what's happened." I respond gently.

"I-I had a mas-sive r-row with Daddy – and-and he told me the truth about everything. He-he told me that he took me behind your back and he's been hi-ding my post and de-let-ing my emails from you. He-he was cry-ing because he hurt you, but I was so angry, cos-cos He-he let me think you didn't-didn't ca-re. I-I just left."

"Sssh-ssh, calm down darling – it's ok." I repeat, worried that my daughter is getting very stressed – which could be especially dangerous with her Epilepsy. "What do you mean you _left_ , sweetie? Where are you?"

Air-port." She answers. "I-I got a taxi – but I don't know what to do next. The taxi c-cost more then I t-thought and I-I got no money left." She sobs sounding frightened. "I-I w-want you, Mummy."

"Sssh-ssh. Ok, darling. Is Daddy still at home?"

"Y-yes. I don't want to ring him. He'll-he'll be ang-ry." She stammers. "I-I said I hated him – and I-I left."

"He won't be angry, sweetie. He loves you and he'll be very worried about you." I reassure her. "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to wait by the taxis. I'm going to ring your Dad and he's going to come and take you home. I'm going to get on the next plane I can and I'm going to come and see you both, ok? _Everything is going to be fine_ , sweetheart. I've got my mobile – so you ring me if you need anything else. I love you Gracie – and I'll see you soon, ok?"

"O-k, Mummy. I love you." She whispers.

 **Sam**

I'm pacing about my house because I've got no idea what to do. I've rung my Mum - and got in and out my car twice when my mobile rings. I answer it hysterically - without paying attention to who it is and my few comes out a few octaves higher than normal. " _Gr_ _ace_ _-_ "

"Sam – calm down!" Comes the stern voice of Connie Beauchamp.

I almost drop the phone, frozen to the spot – though not for long. I haven't spoken to her for so long and her voice sounds strange to me. "Con-Connie?" I stammer, before pacing about again in agitation.

"What _were_ you playing at?!...Sam – will you _stop_ pacing about!" She booms. "I feel like I'm on the bloody Dover ferry!"

I stop and look down in shock – I hadn't realised it was a video call. "S-sorry." I mumble.

"Thank you." She says civilly. "Right – Grace is waiting for you at the airport, by the taxi bay. I've persuaded her to let you take her home."

"Thank God. Is she ok?" I ask – dreading the answer, though I'm reassured that she's not been carted off in an ambulance.

"She's ok." Connie confirms. "She's frightened because she's run out of money and is stranded at airport so she feels out of her depth. I've told her that you're _not_ angry with her – you're just worried."

"Yes." I agree. "I'm getting in the car now."

" _Good_. I'm just leaving work and I'll be on next plane." Connie informs me.

"Are you _allowed_ to do that?" A vision Hassen's face appears in my head. I never liked that man.

" _They_ can take a running jump, Sam. I'm going to sort this bloody mess out." She responds icily.

"You're angry." I mutter.

"Are you surprised, Sam?" She retorts. "I'm absolutely _furious_ with you – but that can wait. Grace is more important."

 **Grace**

I wait nervously for Daddy. Moments before I got to the airport, I was absolutely fuming and I never wanted to see him again, but handing over the last of my money to the taxi man was like a kick in the stomach. Suddenly all I wanted was Mummy and Daddy hugging me - telling me it was going to be ok.

Mummy did exactly that. Reassuring me when I was so frightened – despite my cruel rejection in recent months. She's coming over and she's going to make _everything_ ok again – she didn't even seem that angry when I told her that Daddy hid her letters and deleted the emails she sent. I don't understand why Daddy was so horrible to her, but I do know that he loves her – even if he's got an odd way of showing it. He was devastated by what he'd done to her – he wouldn't have been crying otherwise. I've never seen Daddy cry before.

My mobile rings again. "Mummy? Yes, I'm ok – I feel better now."

"Alright, darling. Daddy's on the way. He's not angry – he's just relieved that you're ok." She tells me. "And Gracie – he _knows_ he messed up badly. He's got a lot of talk – your Dad, but he panics easily. He digs himself into a hole and isn't very good at getting out of them."

"Ok." I agree. I hesitate. "Mummy, you've been ill, haven't you?"

There's a pause. "W-who told you that?" She asks hesitantly. Her reluctant reaction confirms what I thought.

"Nobody told me Mummy, but that's the only reason you would have cancelled at Christmas." I answer confidently.

She clears her throat. "Yes, I have been ill." She agrees. "I'm sorry I kept it from you darling, but I didn't want you to find out over the phone – and well, then it all happened so quickly-" Her breath hitches and I hear her take a deep breath. "Anyway, I will explain everything to you and Daddy when I see you sweetie – but I promise I'm ok now, so you're not to worry."

"Ok, Mummy. Daddy's here now. I can't wait to see you."

"I love Gracie. I'll see you soon, darling." She answers.

I'm still angry with Daddy, but I'm so relieved when the car pulls up – though I'm also still quite worried that he's going to be angry with me. After all, I said some awful things, threw things at him and ran away, but he's come to rescue me like Mummy said he would.

 **Sam**

"I love you, Mummy. Bye." Grace says her mobile as she opens the car door and gets in.

I feel a huge pang of guilt – but I'm glad that Connie was able to keep our daughter calm over the phone before I got there. "I'm sorry, Gracie. _I'm so sorry_." I mumble as she shuts the car door. "What I did to you and Mummy is _awful_ – _so_ awful."

A sob escapes as my daughter throws her arms around me. "I know Daddy. I _hate_ what you did, but I love you and Mummy _so much_. Mummy's coming over so it's going to be ok." She whispers. "-and Mummy didn't even sound that _angry_ with you." She adds as I pull out.

Connie is _definitely_ angry with me – she's just good at hiding it when she needs too. I can't wait to see her – but I'm dreading it too. I've got _no idea_ how to make amends – or if I even can. There are some things too terrible to go back from.

"Mummy's been ill." Grace suddenly announces.

" _What?_ " I exclaim in shock. " _Did-did she tell you that?_ "

"She doesn't need to." Grace responds indignantly. "It's the only thing in the world that would have stopped her coming to see us at Christmas. Anyway, I ask her outright and she confirmed it. She didn't want us to find out over the phone, but she said she'll explain when she gets here."

Connie might have confirmed it, but Grace is right of course. There's nothing on earth that would stop Connie from seeing her daughter – bar one thing. If illness stopped her, it must have been serious – really serious.

" _Daddy!_ " Grace screams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Connie**

It was such a rush, but once I got through the airport, I was able to join a flight to America just before it left – though it took a few arguments before they let me buy the tickets..

"It's too late." they kept insisting – but I'm nothing if not determined to get my way.

It's a long way to New York, so I'm glad I didn't have to wait for the next flight. I'm lucky there was a seat free – even if it is economy, but needs must.

I didn't ask Hassen if I could leave – I just told him I was going, though I did take Elle with me to his office in case he argued. He could of tried to argue but, his choice was to let me go immediately – or find another clinical lead. I love my job, but nothing is more important than my daughter - and now that my demeaning Cancer treatment is over and I've finally manage to get back in contact with her, nothing is going to stop me from seeing her.

I have eight hours to kill. Many things cross my mind and it's only now that I think about the phone call to Sam. Had I not been pre-occupied by trying to do my best for Grace, I wonder if I'd of even known what to say to him. I am of course very angry about both, the way he took her – and the way he's been leading her to think that I'd abandoned her – sabotaging any contact that we've tried to have.

Grace said he was crying though. Crying because he'd hurt me – which makes me think that it started out as one of the games we like to play. It was definitely a game in bad taste but, Sam is well known for acting before he thinks. No doubt the idea of it amused him to start with and it quickly got out of hand. As I told Grace, he digs himself into a hole, panics – and can't get out again. This was the mother of all holes – quite literally! Sam doesn't like admitting he's wrong either – much like me, I suppose, so I can understand that he found it easier to be angry with me and probably believed his own lies to Grace after a while.

It's certainly a mess.

My mobile rings and I glance down hoping to see my daughter's name. 'Audrey Strachan' flashes on my screen.

Sam's formidable mother and I have never really got on, especially after she took Grace back to New York – though I did agree to it that time. I wish I hadn't, but I honestly thought that Grace would be happier away from me back then – safer with Sam.

But that was then.

I have to admit to being glad that Audrey stayed in New York though – I didn't want her to come back. I've got no idea why she'd be ringing me. I guess she must be aware that I'm on a plane to New York – otherwise it's one hell of a coincidence.

I sigh and answer my phone. "Hello Audrey."

"Connie." She responds civilly. "You're on the plane?"

"That's right." I agree.

"Good."

Good? Audrey thinks it's good that I'm on the way to New York. Either she's had a huge personality transplant – or something has happened.

"Has something happened?" I ask. "Are Grace and Sam ok?"

"They've been in an accident."

Again my heart nearly stops. It turns out that on their way home from the airport, Sam crashed into a tree. Grace has a slight concussion, a broken arm and bruising from the seat belt and air bag. Otherwise she's ok – although, they're keeping her under observation in case the concussion effects her Epilepsy.

Sam, on the other hand is in a bad way – much like Grace was after our crash – though her injuries were further complicated by the subsequent helicopter crash. Sam's been unconscious throughout and was trapped in the car – though thankfully, they did manage to get him out before it exploded. He woke up briefly in the hospital, Audrey says – other than that all I know is that he has some swelling in his brain, and his airways were compromised so they've put him in an induced coma for now.

I'm very upset when Audrey goes off the phone – and any anger or feelings of being indifferent I had at Sam disappear. I have to pull myself together though, as Grace then rings me.

 **Grace**

"Your Mum is on the way." Grandma tells me with an air of disapproval – though much less than normal I notice.

I've always hated how my Grandma looks down her nose at my Mum, but she does seem to be thawing a little. Perhaps she's realised that Daddy and I need Mummy here.

I'm still pretty shaken up after the crash. I'm terrified that Daddy won't wake up, and it brought back scary memories from the crash with Mummy. I have to admit that I don't remember much about the helicopter crash. I was in and out of consciousness from the car crash when it happened.

I'm still admitted to the hospital as an inpatient, but they're allowing me to sit in Daddy's room with Grandma. That's the good thing about my Epilepsy, I guess – the doctors are anxious to keep my stress levels down – especially with the concussion, so I've got my own way. I sit next to Daddy, holding his hand. I watch his chest as it rises then falls and my eyes are drawn to the tube in his partially open mouth. I know enough to know that it is aiding his breathing. My Daddy's body has been put to sleep to help him recover, I know from my own recovery last time, that breathing is hard work in a weak body, so he needs help with it.

I stare at the tube. I stare at the drip in his hand. I listen to the machines beeping. It all becomes too much and I burst into tears. Grandma pats my shoulder uncomfortably. Grandma Audrey is not the affectionate sort of Grandma who offers lots of cuddles, but she is Daddy's Mum – I can tell that she's worried about him too. However, she just stands there awkwardly and is unable to provide me with the right kind of comfort.

"Mummy!" I sob. "I want Mummy."

"There, there dear." Grandma states stiffly. "She'll be here soon...Why don't you ring her?" She eventually suggests.

 **Connie**

"Mummy, I'm scared." Grace sobs down the phone. "I know the doctor's are making Daddy sleep, but what if he never wakes up? I need him to come back – I need you both."

That nearly makes me cry – for Grace is unaware of how close she came to losing me. As for Sam, I know not the details of his condition beyond that they're got him in an induced coma. I know that however much I want to, I am unable to promise my distraught daughter that her Daddy will wake up and be fine. I silently beg him to do just that and not just for Grace's sake. The idea of losing Sam kills me 10 times over. We both love to hate each other, but a world without Sam Strachan is unimaginable. I need to pull myself together though – for Grace. I can't let her hear how upset I am.

"Talk to him, Gracie." I instruct her gently. "He can hear you sweetheart. Tell him that he has to get better – chat to him as though you're both having a perfectly normal conversation. Tell him that we all love him and we need him. You've got Grandma there with you – and I'll be there in a few hours, but Daddy is there with you too." I add. "He's just sleeping, but he's listening to you you and he loves you very much."

"He loves you too, Mummy." She responds without hesitation.

 **Grace**

Mummy said to chat to Daddy – and so I do.

I tell him I'm sorry for shouting at him and throwing things – sorry for running away to the airport. I tell him that I was angry when I said I hated him and it's not true. I tell him I love him and I need him back. I chat and chat. I talk about school. I talk about Mummy and I talk about what I want to be when I'm older. He knows most of that already – but I tell him again.

I also talk to Grandma – because despite her un-giving demeanour, I can see that underneath it all, she's quite upset by seeing Daddy lying there.

"It wasn't Mummy's idea to come back here." I announce – anxious that Grandma won't make Mummy feel unwelcome when she arrives.

"I know." Grandma answers. "Your Daddy said."

I stare at her. "When?" I ask in surprise – I mean we crashed on the way back from the airport, and Daddy's been mostly unconscious since then.

She sighs. "When you ran away, Grace, your Dad panicked and didn't know what to do. He rang me and told me everything." She explains. Maybe that's why she's thawing towards Mummy then – she knows what Daddy did and that it wasn't Mummy's fault.

"He's always been a Mummy's boy – your Dad!" Grandma chuckles lightly. "It sounds like he's made a right mess this time though!"

"Yes." I agree. "Mummy's been ill, Grandma." I blurt out – unable to keep it to myself any longer.

 **Connie**

I'm anxious to see my daughter – and to find out the extent of Sam's condition, so I get a taxi straight from the airport. I don't have a lot of luggage anyway – I was in such a hurry to get on a plane that I just darted into my house and chucked some things in a bag before I left.

"Mummy!" Grace squeals happily enveloping me in a bear hug – a one-armed bear hug. Her broken arm is in plaster and a sling.

"Hello, sweetheart." I murmur. "How are you?"

"Better now your here, Mummy." She mumbles.

I nod at the older woman. "Audrey."

"Connie." She responds.

"How's Sam?" I ask.

"Still asleep." She answer curtly. "I'll take you up to him."

 **Grace**

I let my Mummy get her breath back when we get up to Dad's room – and she wants to look over his treatment board. She studies it for ages – and I'm desperate to know. When Mummy and I finally take our seats beside Dad, I can't contain myself any longer.

"Mummy, what's wrong with you?"

"Grace!" My Grandma annoyingly intervenes from the chair next to the door. "Let your Mum get her breath back."

I've already done that.

 **Connie**

"It's ok, Audrey." I say, then I hesitate. Grace is only a young girl. Years of practise telling relatives – some of which were youngsters, bad news has not prepared me for this. My bad news may be in the past tense, but that doesn't make it any easier to tell.

"I'm not as fragile as you think, Mummy." Grace tells me when I hesitate to answer straight away.

I'm not often lost for words – usually, even in such circumstances, I know exactly what to say when the time comes, but my own daughter is different. My maternal instincts drive me to try and protect her from what she's about to hear.

Simple words – no details. The barest minimum, I decide.

"I've had Cancer." I tell as gently as I can, bracing myself for tears, anger or whatever else may come. Everyone reacts differently – and I can feel the words stinging me as they leave my mouth. No matter what she might have prepared herself for, this is going to come as a shock.

 **Grace**

I don't know what to say. I knew it was bad – it had to be to stop her coming to see us at Christmas, but I wasn't prepared for this. With hindsight, it makes sense – what with Mummy's new haircut. Someone at school had it and they lost all their hair – because of the chemo, though I don't know yet if Mummy had that.

Daddy did – I've seen the photos. I was only a baby at the time, but he's told me about it – and about how Mummy was his rock when he was ill. I was poorly too back then because I'd had an accident. Mummy had Daddy and I in one room in intensive care. Daddy had Mummy and I.

This time Mummy was all alone. We were over here and she didn't want to tell us over the phone. A sob escapes me.

"Sssh. I'm sorry darling." Mummy whispers, giving me a cuddle. "I didn't want you to find out over the phone. I was going to tell you both at Christmas." She explains. "But I'm afraid things changed rather suddenly sweetheart and I had to stay in hospital."

"That's why you didn't come at Christmas?" I mumble.

"That's right, darling." She agrees.

"Wh-what kind of cancer, Mummy?" I ask.

"I had a tumour in my heart." She answers quietly.

"Had?" I repeat hopefully.

"Yes." She confirms. "As I explained, it happened rather quickly at the end. I became very poorly and they had to do surgery to remove the tumour." She hesitates. "I did try to ring you before I went for the surgery, but I didn't want to leave you an answer message like that, sweetheart."

I snuggle into Mummy and stay quiet for a while, thinking. "Did you...did you have...um...che-chemo-thingy?"

"Yes." Mummy agrees. I had some before the surgery – but it didn't work very well, which is why I got so poorly." She explains. "Then I had to have some more after the surgery."

"But you're ok now, Mummy?"

"Yes. I'm ok now, darling." She whispers, brushing my hair out of my face. "Now, Grandma said they found skid marks near where you crashed. Did Daddy swerve to avoid something?"

"There was a dog – just standing in the road." I mumble, before bursting into tears. "But it's my fault." I sob. "Daddy's going to die – and it's my fault. I killed Daddy."

"Sssh, of course it wasn't your fault, darling." Mummy tells me firmly. "What do you mean?"

"I distracted Daddy." I sob. "I told him you'd been ill. He-he looked at me and said 'what?'...and-and that's why he didn't see the dog in time."

 **Connie**

"It's all such a mess." I murmur, looking down and stroking the hair of my little girl, who's fast asleep on my lap. It took Audrey and I ages to convince Grace that she's not responsible for Sam's condition – though I think the only one who can convince her completely is Sam himself. I know the feeling of guilt all too well. Despite it being Stephanie Sims who drove me off the road before the last crash, I had too force myself to get back in a car afterwards.

I glance up at Sam's still body. I long for him to wake up and argue with me. He's far too quiet and I don't know how long I stare at him for – willing him to wake up. Of course, he won't while they've got him under sedation.

"Connie?" Audrey puts her hand on my shoulder and hands me a cup of coffee.

"Oh." I respond in surprise. "Thank you." To be honest, I'd quite forgotten that she'd left the room. I take the coffee off her with my right hand. My left remains on Sam's – along with my re-averted gaze.

"Connie..." Audrey repeats – though this time with a different tone. This time her tone suggests that there is more coming. I glance up at her as she re-occupies the chair by the door and hesitates – before opting to come straight to the point as usual. "I know what Sam did to you."

"Oh." I reply. I don't know what else to say – I have little doubt of what she's talking about.

"When Grace ran off to the airport, Sam panicked." She explains. "He rang me and told me everything. He's behaved very badly." She remarks – with the distaste that is usually aimed at me. "I know the two of us have never seen eye-to-eye, Connie, but I am disgusted by the way my son has treated you." She announces. "It was not the way he was brought up – and I can only apologise on his behalf. If he hadn't been so worried about Grace earlier-" She adds. "I would have given him a right earful myself."

"Thank you, Audrey." I say civilly."I'm afraid that Sam and I have always had a fairly immature approach to our relationship." I admit. "I think over the years, we've both acted badly to each other. In my opinion, this started off as game to Sam – and it went too far."

"That's what I suspect." She agrees.

"I've had a lot on mind these last few months." I tell her. "And I've thought a lot about the past. Cancer is very sobering – I really thought I was going to die without seeing either of them again. There's so much that I'd change if I was able to – I thought I was going to die – and I had so many regrets." I mutter. "Maybe if I hadn't pushed Sam away so often, he might not have done it, so you see, Audrey-" I add. "I think we're both to blame for the way he left. He wanted to be a family – but I kept on pushing him away - and by the time I was willing to admit it was what I wanted too, I'd already pushed him out the door."

"Well, I'm afraid that Sam does like causing trouble, Connie. He seems to thrive on playing games. so I make no excuses for his despicable behaviour, but I can see that he loves you – even if he has a strange way of showing it." She shuffles in her seat and folds her legs. "Men can be idiots." She informs me, pursing her lips. "His father was no better."

We sit in silence for a while and Grace sleeps on – no doubt exhausted from everything that's happened.

"How bad was it then – the Cancer?" Audrey asks after a while.

"Oh." I reply. Here come the twenty questions. "Bad."

"When did it start?" She asks.

"Not long after they left." I admit. "I was out running one morning and I had to stop because I couldn't breathe properly. I went to see a private doctor. I know that I should have told them when I got the results of my tests, Audrey – but the truth is that I was complete denial over it. When I finally accepted how bad it was, I wasn't well enough to travel. I didn't want to tell Grace over the phone and – well, Sam wouldn't speak to me." I pause. "Actually, Audrey, I'm not sure I would have known how to speak to him after the way he left, if he had picked up my calls."

She nods in acceptance of what I've said. "You were intending to tell them at Christmas?"

"Yes." I agree. " The intention was to wait until after Christmas Day – so that they could enjoy Christmas first without it hanging over them. Grace so wanted a family Christmas – just the three of us, but to tell you the truth, I think that Sam would have noticed I was ill straight away and he would have demanded an explanation."

Audrey stays quiet for a few minutes. "You said the Cancer was in your heart?"

"Yes, that's right."

"So if Sam hadn't left, the chances are he would have picked up on you being ill." She suggests.

"He might have." I agree. "He is a brilliant doctor." I stroke his hand again. "It's all such a mess." I repeat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Connie**

Twelve hours since Sam was put into the induced coma – and three hours since he was brought back out of it, we wait by his bedside.

The swelling has gone down enough for them to wake him up and he is now able to breathe fully on his own, but as in Grace's case after the last crash, we won't know if there is any lasting damage until Sam wakes up. With Grace, there was – and she now has to live with Epilepsy and life-long medication.

I'm desperate for him to be fine for more than one reason – it's no fun - and rather irritating yelling when he doesn't yell back. I have already made up my mind to give up everything to look after him - as well as my daughter, if things turn out that way – and whether he wants me to or not. It may not be as it seems though. There's my front – the 'cover' that Grace and Audrey see.

It sounds like a huge decision, but it's not – not really. I could have lost him – there is that. I could have lost them both in the crash. I would have lost them both if the Cancer had killed me as threatened to do. I'm going to grab this chance with both hands – whether or not the worst case scenario is realised, but hopefully it won't come to that.

Then there is the other side of things. The anger I'm so far managing to hide. I can't deny that part of my decision – the more dominant part, leans towards the fact that he has hurt me and I'm determined to be here as a constant reminder to him that he should not have crossed me. No matter what happens, he will not be able to take my daughter from me again – and I will not let her think that this is her fault either – she will not have to live with that. I will care for him if he needs that – but I will not make things easy for him – no, he will not get away with what he did.

I am Connie Beauchamp – and that man lying there is Sam Strachan, and I have not forgotten. If he is ok, he will get it with both barrels. He knows he hurt me badly – and he will know again.

For now, I have to push away these thoughts because I can't allow the mask to slip if front of my daughter – or Audrey for that matter. As far as they are concerned, we are a united front. Audrey, I think might understand the depths of my anger – though he is still her son, but I want all the ammo I can get when Sam wakes, so I can't yet afford to lose her newly – and perhaps briefly founded respect.

It's a waiting game and we're watching him anxiously when I feel movement in his hand. I look down at it – wondering whether I imagined it.

"Sam?" I say softly, looking back up.

"Connie?" Audrey leans forward in her chair – almost to the point of falling out of it.

"He moved his hand." I explain hopefully. "Sam?"

"His eyes moved." Grace exclaims, jumping out of her seat excitedly. "Daddy?"

His eyes flicker and he mumbles something incoherently.

"Sam?" I repeat standing up and leaning over him.

"I'll go and get a nurse." Audrey suggests - and makes a quick exit.

"Gra-ce." Sam mumbles again. "Con-nie."

"Hello Sam." I greet him quietly.

His eyes flicker again and then open. He blinks a few times as they adjust to the light. Audrey returns with a nurse and we all hold our breath.

He coughs and clears his throat. "I-I-I" His voice comes out croakily, to his obvious surprise – and indignation. He looks positively appalled.

"Take it slowly, Sam." I suggest. "You were in a car crash – do you remember?"

 **Sam**

I crashed into a tree.

"Gra-ce?" I mumble – remembering it all too well.

"I'm here, Daddy." She answers to my relief.

As the nurse checks me over, I'm aware of something in the atmosphere that's not quite right.

Connie is here and she's being the way I've always wanted her to be – the way she was heading before I ran away. This is what I've always hoped for – the devoted partner who loves me, but it's not Connie. It could have been, but not now – not after the way I left.

Connie is good at hiding her anger when she needs to – Grace doesn't suspect a thing. I know Connie was as upset about me as she was when Grace was hurt – though there is no way I'll ever get her to admit that. While my life was uncertain – and I was unable to speak for myself, Connie didn't allow herself to be angry with me – not properly. Now that I'm awake and out of danger, her anger is bubbling to the surface again. She's keeping it hidden in front of Grace and my mother – but I know Connie better than anyone.

The 'loving persona' is pretentious – at least to me. It's a way of disguising the hate she feels towards me – and she definitely hates me. I can't help hoping that deep down she still harbours some tender feelings towards me – though whether I'll ever find them now...they are buried deep down.

Very deep.

 **Connie**

I'm glad he's alive – I am. But I under-estimated how angry I'd be when I saw him. It was ok when he was in the coma – I was able to keep a lid on my feelings. I've been so focused on Grace – and Audrey's good side when it made a surprise appearance, but now that Sam's awake again, my anger knows no bounds. His voice grates – setting my teeth on edge, my hands itch to slap him and I can feel my mask slipping. I do my best to pull it back uo, but I'm grateful when Audrey takes Grace off to the canteen for some dinner. On the other hand, whether it's really a good idea to leave me alone with Sam – I'm not sure.

 **Sam**

I'm disappointed, but it doesn't come as a huge surprise when Connie drops my hand the second Grace and my Mum are out of the room. Furthermore, she's up and walking as far away from me as possible. To start with, I wonder whether she's going to leave the room too, but Connie has anger coursing through her veins like raging lava – and she's never been able to walk away from an argument at the best of times.

She leans back against the far wall with her arms folded. "You're still alive then." She retorts irritably. Did she really want me to die?

"Yeah." I mutter.

"More's the pity."

I'm desperate to know, but for that very reason, she won't tell me anything and it's hell. From the moment Grace and Mum leave the room – to when they come back, there's a stony silence where my every effort to make some kind conversation is thwarted – and every attempt to find out what's been going on with Connie's health is ignored.

And so it goes on for my whole stay in hospital. I enjoy the times when I have to share Connie with Grace and my Mum – because whilst they are present, she sits and holds my hand as though that's the only place she wants to be. She's sweetness and light then. I relish such moments – and I can see how she hates that, but she does it for Grace's benefit.

However, whenever they are out of the room, my hand is coldly dropped and her stance by the wall regained – though sometimes she can't bare to be in my presence at all and leaves the room, returning when she sees them coming back.

I have my suspicions about Connie's illness – and I long to ask Grace or my Mum for confirmation, but I don't dare in case Connie finds out – she's hell-bent on me suffering in my ignorance. Mum and Grace have never mentioned the subject – probably assuming that Connie told me when we were alone that first time and that we don't want to dwell on the matter.

Connie deserves to have revenge for what I did – but how long is she going to keep it up for?

 **Connie**

Silence is certainly golden in this instant – all the gold is all mine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Connie**

I grudgingly offer Sam my arm as we leave the hospital. It seems expected of me, but I'm pretty sure that he leans on me more than he needs to. Audrey pulls up outside the hospital and I help Sam into the front, before getting in the back with Grace. Audrey chats with Sam all the way back and Grace chips in, happy to have her family back together.

I chose the wrong seat to sit in. I sat behind Sam, because it seemed like the best idea at the time. If I had sat behind Audrey, where Grace is, I would have had to see Sam's face every time I looked at Grace. He would have been there in the corner of of my eye.

On the other hand, the seat I chose to sit in is directly behind Sam and he keeps looking at me in the wing mirror. I'm trying not to look back, but it's the way he's looking at me. I can feel his eyes boring into me, even if I don't look. It's that longing gaze he has – the one he always resorts to with me. His eyes are captivating and no matter how angry I am, that gaze turns me weak at the knees eventually – and he knows that. I never gave him the chance to use it in the hospital, but he's using it now.

With bells on.

 **Sam**

I catch Connie's eyes in the wing mirror, repeatedly giving her the look that know will break her.

I've been trying to give her this look ever since she started giving me the silent treatment. She'd never admit it, but that's why she kept leaving the room in the hospital. She knew if she stayed, I'd wear her down eventually.

She can't jump out of a moving car – though I half expect her to ask my Mum to stop so that she can get out and walk. She won't though, for Grace's sake. She doesn't want to draw attention to our feud. I'm so determined to break through her icy exterior – or at least thaw it a little, so I keep making eyes at her.

 **Connie**

It's the worst car journey I've ever been on and it takes all my effort not to ask Audrey to stop the car. I'd rather walk, but I can't. As far as Grace is concerned, her father and I care for each other deeply. Sam does – or so he'd have me believe with the looks he's sending in my direction. Of course, the way he left tells a different story altogether.

As for me, my anger and hatred burn like fire and are all consumintg. If I still have any love for him, it's buried deep within and I can't tell. Part of my anger stems from confusion.

Everything was good – not perfect, but it was going well. Grace had finally recovered but, more than that, we had come to an understanding and our relationship was back on track. Sam and I were getting on well to. Grace was happy, I was happy and Sam was happy. He was getting what he always wanted – a family life for the three of us. Perhaps Sam didn't have me completely in the sense of being a proper couple, but I'll admit that I was coming around to the idea. I was ready to settle down.

He would have got what he wanted.

When Sam left like that, I felt hurt and betrayed. I was angry at him for leaving – for tricking me, and I was angry at myself for believing him and letting my guard down. Letting a man in has never turned out well for me, but I was confused and I still am – I mean, how did I get that so badly wrong? How could I not see that he was stringing me along?

Sam and I play games. We vie with each other for power and rub each other up the wrong way, but he's never been cold-hearted and cruel before. I don't recognise the man who disappeared with my daughter in the night. That's what I don't understand – and I'm used to understanding everything.

If there is a good reason for the hurtful manner of his departure and he does genuinely care for me, there is some forgiveness to be had. The question is, can I bring myself to listen?

At the moment I am finding increasingly difficult to even be in the same room with him, especially when we have to pretend that everything is rosy for Gracie's benefit.

Sam is desperate to know what's been wrong with me, which I have to admit does make me wonder whether there is some truth to his tender gaze – I mean, would he care what was wrong with me if he didn't care about me?

I know what it is to be alone. I would have done anything to have Sam and Grace with me these last few months, so I suppose I do want to listen – to know, just in case he really does love me, but what possible reason could he have had to leave the way he did. You just don't treat someone you love like that.

If I'm honest, I'm taking immense pleasure in keeping him in the dark over my health. It's surprisingly satisfying watching him sweat – watching him hurt, because he doesn't know.

Now I sound like the cruel one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sam**

"Simba!" Grace squeals excitedly as he barks to greet her. She pats him with her good hand. He must have missed her. He's had my Mum and the neighbour popping in to see him whilst we've in hospital. Not quite the five-star treatment he's used to getting from Grace.

Connie helped me out of the car when we got back, and I have to admit that I leaned on her more than necessary – much like I did when we came out of the hospital earlier. She's still giving me the cold shoulder when we're alone, so I'm doing everything I can to melt her icy demeanour in the presence of our daughter – the only time Connie will allow such behaviour.

Things continue in a similar vein all evening, with me using every opportunity to appeal to any hidden tenderness my ex might feel towards me – and Connie trying to subtlety snub my advances when Grace isn't looking. It's not until later, when Grace decides to go up to bed early and my Mum goes with her to assist in the place of her broken arm, that I risk asking what I need to know.

"Why won't you tell me what was wrong with you?" I ask desperately, plumping for the direct approach.

Of course, given that I'm the one in the doghouse, it doesn't go down well, and she tells me rather nastily to 'shut up and leave her alone'. By the time my mother rejoins us in the kitchen, where we've been attempting to wash up, we're glaring daggers at each other – or rather, Connie is glaring daggers at me.

"I thought things seemed too good to be true." My Mum sighs.

I just consider myself lucky that all the crockery isn't broken – I wouldn't have been surprised if Connie had thrown it at me.

 **Connie**

"I'm sorry, Audrey." I say. "I didn't mean to mislead you."

I find that I am actually sorry. Audrey has been supportive since she found out about the Cancer – and about the way Sam's been treating me. It also feels a bit like the icing on the cake to have Sam's mother on my side for once.

"It's ok, Connie." Audrey responds, much to Sam's surprise. I can't help feeling a bit smug. "So, I take it Sam doesn't know what was wrong with you?" She clarifies. "Am I right?"

"He doesn't _know_ anything." I confirm bluntly. "And I'm sorry Audrey," I add, "I know he's your son, but I hate him and I can't stand being in the room with him any longer, so I'm going outside."

"Hate is such a strong word." Sam protests in a whining tone, that grates, and only serves to irritate me further.

" _Not strong enough._ " I counter, ignoring how close to tears he is.

I shut the door behind me, trying not to slam it and wander into the garden. I wonder if Audrey's still on my side now that I've nearly made Sam cry. I've been great at walking away from an argument at the best of times, but it was better I left. I couldn't have kept my temper for much longer and an argument now could prove dangerous.

 **Sam**

I stare after her in devastation and I'm unable to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. Mum pats me awkwardly on the back.

"You've really shot yourself in the foot there, son."

"Yeah." I mutter in agreement. I decide to ask my Mum the question that's been burning a hole on my brain. Considering she's already surprised me by siding with Connie, I don't think she's going to answer, but I just don't know what else to say.

"What was wrong with her, Mum? Please tell me." I beg, but as I suspected, my Mum refuses.

"That's up to Connie to tell you." She answers. "Connie and I might not have always got on with each other – but on this occasion, Sam, I have every sympathy with her - and I'm completely disgusted by your treatment of her." She tells me crossly. "And mind, you don't go asking Grace any questions either." She adds. "The only thing I will say is that, if Connie does decide to tell you, you will realise exactly what the consequences of your actions could have been.." And with that, my Mum follows Connie out the back door.

 **Connie**

Outside the back door, is a stretch of patio with a flight of stone steps on the right side, leading down to the the grassy area of Sam's garden. It's not a big garden and the borders are a bit over-grown. Sam never has been very green-fingered – though the grass is well cut, so it does look like he can handle a lawn-mower. I sit on the steps and watch Simba charging about the lawn – he followed me out of the kitchen before I shut the door.

Having calmed down since being out in the fresh air, I feel terrible about my sharp words to Sam – despite his previous treatment of me. I realise now that I do care about him and I can see that whatever the reasons for his departure, he also genuinely cares for me too – and he wants to put things right. I also feel slightly concerned and guilty – which served as the main reason for me unusually walking away. He's just come out of hospital and is meant to be keeping calm. I've never seen him that close to tears to other than when Grace has been ill.

I pick up a stick and flick it into the border. I'm still not sure if I can go back in yet. I do want him to know how ill I was and how much I needed him when he wasn't there. How much I needed Grace. I want him to know just how much he let me down, but the thing with Sam is, he can't just listen – he has to interrupt and say his piece. I realise that I'm like that too, but the Cancer was awful back then and it's too hard to talk about. I need to be able just to tell him and get it over - without interruptions. We've never managed to have a conversation like that and it wouldn't do to get into another argument and make Sam ill again. He needs to know what he left me to deal with alone, but if it makes him ill – well, that won't help at all.

I hear the door open and Audrey comes out to join me. She's still talking to me then.

"Is he ok?" I ask as she sits down next to me.

"You do care then." She comments.

I throw another stick into the border. "Of course I care – it would be easier if I didn't."

"Sam's fine." She tells me. "And he still doesn't know anything."

I look at her in surprise. "I thought he would have asked you."

"He asked." She agrees. "But it's not my decision. Whether you tell him or not is up to you – and I've told him he's not to ask Grace any questions either. I've also made it clear to Sam that I don't agree with what he's done."

She sighs. "Connie, I completely understand why you haven't told him – and that's your choice to make, but don't you think he should know exactly what you've had to deal with? I don't know why he did what he did, he hasn't explained it to me either – he only told me what he did and that he regretted it." She pauses. "Like I said, Connie, it's your decision, but I don't believe that he will really understand what he's done, unless he knows the full extent of what happened in his absence and I think you owe it to yourself to tell him."

I nod slowly, looking away from her. "I want to tell him, but..." I hesitate and trail off.

"But...?" She prompts me eventually.

"It's the way we've always been – we can't have a conversation without one of us interrupting – and I know I can be just as bad sometimes, but it's been so hard. I've never been good at the emotional stuff and honestly, Audrey, I can't go back over it and relate it all to him unless I can do it in one go. I don't know whether Sam can listen with interrupting me." I explain. "I just don't think he'll be able to stop himself." I repeat with a shrug. "Then we'll get in an argument, and I can't risk that. He might be as stubborn as a mule and bloody arrogant at times, but he's just come out of hospital and he's not meant to be getting stressed out. That's why I came outside. He was getting worked up and I was losing my temper."

 **Sam**

My Mum's words reverberate around my head...

" **If Connie does decide to tell you, you will realise exactly what the consequences of your actions could have been..."**

What could she have possibly meant? Surely, if it was life or death, I would have been informed for Gracie's sake – unless Connie asked them not to. I certainly made her angry enough.

I sit down at the kitchen table and I rub my eyes, suddenly realising that I'm really tired. I've made such a mess of things and now my Mum and Connie have joined forces – not that I can blame them. They're in the right and I'm in the wrong. If any good can come out of this at all, Connie and Mum seem to have reached an understanding.

Now I just have to hope I can get Connie back.

I sit at the table for what seems like an eternity, before I hear the door opening again. I look up hoping against hope, it's Connie, but it's just my Mum. She sits down and clears her throat, before coming straight to the point.

"Connie wants to tell you what was wrong with her, but she said that it's quite difficult to talk about and neither of you are good at listening without interrupting. " She pauses and clasps her hands together. "Connie thinks that you won't be able to stop yourself from interrupting and you'll both end up having another argument."

"I _can_ listen without interrupting." I mutter reproachfully. "She always thinks the worst of me."

"You haven't exactly done much to prove her wrong on that score – have you Samuel?" Mum answers.

Well, that's a valid point.

"In any case," She continues. "That's not what's troubling Connie. She's worried about you."

"She hates me." I point out miserably.

My Mum sighs a little impatiently. "Sam, the first thing she did when I went outside just now was to ask if you were ok. Does that sound like someone who hates you?"

I look up in surprise. Connie must still care - at least a little bit, if she's trying to check I'm ok.

"You've just come out of hospital and you're meant to be keeping calm." She reminds me. "An argument would stress you out – that's why Connie went outside earlier." Mum informs me. "She could see that you were upset, so as angry as she was, she chose to walk away. She cares more that you realise, Sam – and if you don't believe me," She adds. "Just think – how many arguments has Connie actually walked away from?"

Mum's right. Connie doesn't usually walk away from an argument, no matter how angry or upset she is with me.

"I won't interrupt." I insist vehemently, filled with freshly renewed hope that I might be able to repair the damage I did to our relationship after all, though it will certainly take time.

"Well, in that case, Sam, go and talk to her." Mum suggests. "But put your coat on." She adds as I get to my feet. "It's quite chilly out there tonight."

I put my coat on and take Connie's with me too. She must be cold and though I still don't know what has been wrong with her, I know she's been ill, so she probably shouldn't be outside without one - especially if what I suspect is true. I also have another idea, and boil the kettle whilst I go to get the coats from the hall.

I bet Mum never expected to be acting as an advocate between Connie and I – I certainly didn't see that coming.


	6. Chapter 6

**Connie**

I shiver after Audrey goes back inside. In my hurry to get out of the kitchen earlier, I didn't bring my coat out and the wind is now getting quite strong. It wasn't very sensible, given that I've just recovered from Cancer. I really should go back in the warm, but considering how close to tears Sam was, I'd be surprised if he hadn't cried after I left. Perhaps it's the idea of making a grown man cry, but I feel terrible about it and I'm uncharacteristically worried that I'll cause him to collapse from stress if I go back in, so instead, I wrap my cardigan tighter around myself and sit watching Simba – who has found a ball to play with in the border.

I hear the back door and glance behind me to see Sam coming out, wrapped up in his coat. He's carrying mine – along with two steaming mugs of coffee. I can see straight away that he's been crying and I feel a further pang of guilt.

"Are you ok?" I ask as he sits on the step next to me. "Thanks." I add when he hands me a mug and puts my coat around my shoulders. I haven't forgotten my manners.

"I'm alright." He tells me.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to make you cry."

He looks surprised that I'm apologising, and indeed part of me feels that I shouldn't be, after the way I've been treated by him, but only part of me now – as opposed to the stifling anger I've felt towards him for months. That anger that didn't leave room for anything else.

"That's ok." He answers. " You've got every right after what I've done." He sips his coffee. "If you want to tell me, I'll keep my mouth shut." He promises earnestly.

I swallow a mouthful of coffee. "It won't be easy for you to hear." I warn. "And you will almost certainly keep wanting to ask questions."

He nods. "I promise I can wait until you've finished."

 **Sam**

My heart is thumping in my chest before she even starts and I'm grateful that she tells me the main point straight away.

"I had Cancer." She announces – confirming my suspicions. "The tumour was in my heart and was believed to be malignant. I was in complete denial at first. I didn't tell anyone about it and I refused treatment." She pauses.

I feel terrible as soon as I find out where the tumour was. Hearts are my speciality, so I probably would have noticed she was ill. If I had been there, I could have helped her – especially if she was in denial and refusing treatment I can normally find a way to get through to her , even when she's being stubborn – or at least I used to be able to, before I acted so stupidly. I've already got a thousand burning questions, but I promised not to interrupt, so I remain tight-lipped.

"I was mentoring Ethan – he was struggling after Cal's death and I suppose it took my mind off what I'd lost."

A lump rises in my throat and I have trouble pushing it down again. By what she lost, she means Grace and I – or possibly just Grace.

Connie sips her coffee. "I didn't like what the private doctor was telling me, so I pretended my scans were another patients and I asked Ethan's opinion on them as part of his training."

I have to say, that is a very 'Connie Beauchamp' move and impressively creative in the circumstances.

She shrugs." I got defensive when Ethan agreed with the other doctor. Eventually, he worked it out, but I swore him to secrecy and I think, by the time he'd convinced me to have Chemo, he was worried that I'd refuse more treatment if he told anyone." She stops to drink again, before continuing.

I can tell that it's providing her with some relief to get it out and I still say nothing, digging my nails into my palm, in the effort to keep my mouth shut as I promised.

"Nevertheless," She continues. "It didn't stop him from telling me off every time I turned up to work during my Chemo."

I can't really talk. When I had Cancer, I also continued to work when I shouldn't have. It nearly killed me. Grace was ill too back then. Connie had the two of us in intensive care together.

"I had two rounds of Chemo and other than Ethan, I kept it to myself." She explains. "On the day I was flying out to Aspen, Hassen called me into work. He said I could still get the flight later as planned, but I collapsed in resus. That wasn't going to stop me." She retorts, "But I was admitted whilst I was unconscious. Anyway," She continues with a deep breath. "They were having trouble treating me and Ethan had to tell them about the Cancer. Of course, I'd picked up an infection because my immune system was shot. Ethan tried to persuade me to tell Grace then, but I got her answer-phone and chickened out. I suppose I still hadn't really accepted how serious it was, but when they did more scans on me the next day, it turned out that the tumour was still growing – the Chemo wasn't working."

So far, I've managed to hold it together, though I'm not sure how, but when Connie becomes uncharacteristically tearful over the next few minutes, it breaks me too.

"They thought I might only have days left at that point." She sniffs tearfully, "but nobody at Holby would operate on me because of the infection – they said I had to wait for it to clear first. I discharged myself and made Ethan drive me to London, where Dr Cornell, I told him, had agreed to operate." She smiles weakly. "You see, I went to college with her and I honestly thought she would, but after doing her own tests on me, she said I was too weak and I wouldn't survive the surgery. I thought that was pretty much it. Dr Cornell was my last hope."

Connie's tears are falling freely now, as are mine, and I can't stop myself from wrapping my arms around her in a hug, but for once she accepts my comfort and doesn't try to push me away. "That was when I realised that I wasn't going to see Grace again."

"I don't remember much after that." She admits. "I remember sitting by the Thames with Ethan and the two of us having an argument. I remember going back to the hotel. The next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance and I was told that the tumour had temporarily blocked my heart valve – luckily for me, it moved again when I passed out. A hotel maid found me unconscious in the bath. Dr Cornell took me into theatre and somehow I survived the surgery. I had more Chemo after and I was on bed-rest for a while." She finishes. "But Grace thought I'd abandoned her by then and I didn't know what to do."

I am yet again horrified by my actions and I see now what my Mum meant. Grace could have so easily lost her Mum while we were miles away and I can not even bring myself to imagine that, but it nearly happened. If it had, I don't think Grace would have ever forgiven me – and it breaks my heart to think of how I nearly lost the woman I love.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Con." I sob over and over again, unable to find any other words to say.

Connie surprisingly finds it in her newly repaired heart to console me.

 **Connie**

"Shh-shhh." I say, rubbing his back soothingly. It's strange – I'm still angry with him, but seeing him in such a blubbering mess, I can't stop myself from comforting him. It feels unnatural – but at the same time, it doesn't and I find it difficult to ignore the raw emotion he's showing. Surely he can't be faking that.

 **Sam**

"You could have died and we didn't know." I eventually blub.

"You would've been called, if the surgery had gone badly." She informs me quietly. "You're down as my next of kin. They only didn't tell you sooner, because I told them not to."

I stare at her. "I...I...I thought it was Charlie." I stammer.

"It would've been." She agrees, "except if something happens to me, it'll be up to you to tell Grace, won't it."

"Oh, er, yeah." I mutter, not daring to entertain the idea of the conversation I could have been having with our daughter.

 **Connie**

"Like I said, Sam, by the time I accepted how seriously ill I was, it was too late for you to be able to bring her back in time."

Why on earth am I trying to make excuses for him? It doesn't change what he did, but then, given how upset with himself, he is for doing it, I'll give him one chance to explain. One chance only.

"If you want to try and explain why you left, Sam, then I will listen." I tell him. "And then depending on what you tell me, I might be open to further questions about my health."

I'll allow that. I've told him what he needs to know. If I'm satisfied with his explanation, then I give him more information – if I'm not, then he'll have to keep wondering. A bit of give and take is required as far as I'm concerned. That's the 'Mrs Beauchamp' in me.

 **Sam**

I swallow. I'm not sure what to say. How do I explain when there is no explanation?

"I had no right to take her behind your back." I admit. "I don't really know why I did. I can't tell you there's a good excuse for how I acted because, I don't think there's ever a good reason for what I did. All I can say, is that, you are the most amazing woman I've ever met, but you've nearly always kept me at arm's length and when you started to let me in, I completely freaked out and ran away." I explain – or at least try to. Connie remains quiet, so I have no choice but to continue.

"I must admit, I didn't expect such a positive reaction from Grace when I suggested New York, but I think, what with her long recovery, she was itching for a change of scenery – and the normality that her old school and circle of friends provided. Anyway, I quickly wished I hadn't suggested it because Grace was so excited and I let my mouth run away with me by telling her it was your idea. It completely spiralled and..." I trail off.

I don't want to sound like I'm defending what I did. I don't deserve to be forgiven for that, no matter how much I want it. Living with my actions is hell, especially now I know about the Cancer, so I can't even imagine what it's done to Connie.

"You dug yourself into a hole and kept digging." She offers.

Well, that's a pretty accurate turn of phrase. Connie stays quiet for a while.

"It'll be very hard to forget what you did, Sam." She tells me eventually, "and at the moment, I can't say whether or not I'll be able to completely forgive you. Maybe with time, I will – but I don't know." She admits. "You've got an awful lot of making up to do, before I can believe that you _truly_ care, Sam." she adds after a pause.

"I will." I promise. "I really will make it up to you, Con."

"Hmm-mm, we'll see." she remarks, "Do you want to know anything else?"

 **Connie**

It's hard to know what I feel. His explanation seems pathetic, but at the same time, knowing Sam, it also seems totally believable. That's him all over and his explanation takes away some of the pain – the pain of believing he could be so cruel to me. What he did is not ok, but I can recognise him again. He's the man I've always known – and that makes it easier to bear.

And so, I am willing to answer any questions he might have.

 **Sam**

I do have questions – many questions, but I know it's not fair to fire them all at her, so I will ask the most pressing ones, and then maybe as time passes, I will ask the others.

"You collapsed the day you were meant to fly out?"

I should have known – I did know. I remember the sinking feeling I ignored when I heard the message on Grace's answer-phone.

"Yes." She agrees.

I look away. "I'm sorry." I mutter, before admitting the truth of the matter. "I had a bad feeling when I heard the message you left Grace, I just ignored it – just like I ignored the reservations I felt when you stopped fighting me for her. I should've known."

She doesn't really answer, but then what can she say.

"You went to a private doctor?" I ask.

"Yes." She agrees again. "I knew that if I had the surgery, Jac would end up doing it, if I stayed at Holby."

"Jac's the best." I comment. "After you."

"Hmm-mm," she nods, "well, I can't really operate on myself, can I. Anyway, I didn't want Jac because like you, I mentored her and I didn't think it would be fair to ask her to do it. Too close to home." She adds. "For both of us." She shrugs. "When it came down to it, Jac was on sick leave when I needed the surgery, so she couldn't have done it anyway."

"She was?"

"She got herself shot." Connie retorts. "I decided against having the surgery, but when it became an emergency, no one at Holby would operate."

"Because of the infection."

"Right. Which is why I went to London." She remarks.

"I would have operated on you if it saved your life." I say indignantly.

She sighs. "We have a daughter together, Sam. You wouldn't have been allowed to operate on me – just like they wouldn't either of us operate on Grace after the crash."

I think that's the first time Connie has ever openly admitted, in words, that we have a child together. I'm careful not to point out what she's just said.

There is something else I really want to know – just because I'm nosey. It's not really my business, so she may not answer.

"There is something else, Con." I say, choosing my words carefully. "But it's none of my business and I'm just being nosey, so you tell me to shove off if you want."

She chuckles dryly. "I'm sure I will if I don't want to answer! What is it, Sam?"

"What did you argue with Ethan about?"

I wait, while she debates whether to tell me or not. I can see that she's considering the possibility of saying that she can't remember – though it was immediately obvious that she did. However, if that's the way she wants to play it, I will of course go along with it.

"Don't laugh." she retorts eventually.

"I won't." I confirm, still waiting.

"I was upset and confused and...stuff." She comments, unusually losing her ability to find the words she wants. "I kissed him."

I stare at her blankly, wondering whether I really heard her correctly.

"I told you not to laugh." she complains at my shocked silence.

Immediately the jealousy burns and laughter is about as far away as Holby City right now.

"I'm not laughing, sweetie." I answer, one of the pet names I usually reserve for Grace, just slipping out, unguarded. It's unheard of for me to use a pet name for Connie – unless I'm deliberately trying to wind her up. Surprisingly she doesn't comment. "What did Ethan do?"

"He just kind of stuttered: "Oh, M-Mrs B-Beauchamp"! It was awkward and embarrassing, so I just ran."

I can't help sniggering slightly. "Sorry." I mumble quickly, remembering my promise not to laugh and I hurriedly change the subject. "I really am sorry, Connie. I couldn't have got through my Cancer without you and Grace. I should have been there for you." I lament. "You were brilliant – and you were worrying about Grace too. You hade two of us in intensive care at once – do you remember?"

Connie stands up. "Come on, we need to get you back in the warm." She takes the empty mug off me and we head inside.

"Go and look in my purse while I wash these up." She tells me. "There's a piece of paper folded up in there that you should read."

I open her purse and see a photo of Grace and I smiling back at me. I half expected my face to be scratched out, but it's not. I find a folded up piece of A4 paper.

"I've never forgotten." She tells me, as I open it to reveal the badly scribbled words I wrote whilst in intensive care.

 **'RUFF**

 **HOW IS SHE**

 **UR GOOD MUM**

 **U CARRY ON'**


End file.
